


Gerameweek Day 2: After All This Time

by pajamabees



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Germerica - Freeform, M/M, gerame - Freeform, some talk of war but no details
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 07:38:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15814407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pajamabees/pseuds/pajamabees
Summary: It was Ludwig’s decision to put his dangerous job as a journalist and photographer over his relationship with Alfred. He left on bad terms, and now that he’s back after reporting on a war zone for over a year, he’s not sure where they stand. Will Alfred be waiting for him? Will Alfred even forgive him?





	Gerameweek Day 2: After All This Time

**Author's Note:**

> gerameweek day 2 yall!
> 
> (I literally felt so horrible after Adam died in Voltron that I wrote a reunion gerame fic lmaooo)

The anxiety pooled at the bottom of Ludwig’s stomach didn’t lighten up when the plane landed. It didn’t disappear when he had to be separated from the American citizens into a line of foreigners for customs. It sure as hell didn’t go away when he finally had his belongings in his hands after watching suitcase after suitcase go by. And the little bow tied to the handle to help him recognize which one was his only worsened his stomach ache. Because that was Alfred’s idea. Alfred, his boyfriend, who he hasn’t talked to in a year, who he left on bad terms. Was he even his boyfriend, now?

The question burned his chest. It had been pushed to the back of his head the entire trip, but it couldn’t be avoided now, not as he walked along the path that freed him from those annoying customs, his suitcase strolling at his heels. Ludwig gripped his carry-on tighter around his shoulder. He texted Alfred about his arrival time, but it was curt and to the point. He wanted so desperately to leave an endearing pet name at the end, but because their status was questionable, he decided against it. He received no reply.

The entire situation made his heart ache, as if it would wither and die if what he feared was true. The last thing he wanted was for them to end their special relationship on bad terms. He didn’t want it to end at all! But as he neared the section where family and friends waited for passengers, the possibility that Alfred wouldn’t be among the crowd clawed at his thoughts until a headache pounded against his skull.

_“Ludwig, it’s a war zone over there. You’re gonna be right in the middle of it!”_

_“But this is a huge opportunity for me.”_

_“Yeah, an opportunity to get killed!”_

Dread washed over his body, his feet moving on their own. Every night that he slept in tents and bunkers surrounded by soldiers, scribbling in his little journal about the events that happened throughout the day and flipping through his camera, he thought of Alfred. Every single night. His brown curls, and soft, dark skin scattered with freckles. In the sunlight he glowed, and Ludwig dreamed of just Alfred, sitting on his favorite window seat, staring at the outside world and thinking about what only Alfred would think about. Streams of light highlighted his hair, and Ludwig loved watching how the brighter strands twinkled. And there was just something about the way Alfred looked on with bespectacled eyes, something about his quiet posture, that always pushed Ludwig to his feet and pulled him towards that man who thought about the world in unique ways. And then the scene would change, and the sun was swallowed by dark clouds that colored Alfred’s hair dull. He was no longer looking out the window, and instead buried his head in his hands.

_“Why am I not enough? Why am I not important?”_

_“Alfred-”_

Oh, how Ludwig ached dragging his forlorn self through the airport. He never regretted his decision, and won’t start to now. He had a passion for journalism and letting the world know of the horrors that this planet was capable of. Spreading awareness was so important to him. But what he did regret, was not understanding Alfred’s emotions. He should have made sure to let Alfred know that, yes, journalism was his passion, but Alfred was his passion too. Alfred was important. Ludwig should have made it more clear how heartbroken he was to leave Alfred behind.

But what happened was done. It’s in the past. All Ludwig can do is move forward from here and see what happens. But as he finally wheeled his luggage through the gates into the area where awaiting families looked on with searching eyes, his heart began to drop.

Humans had similar characteristics, but no one could look like Alfred. The perfect mixture of dark hair with brown skin, and the most beautiful eyes in the world…. Nobody could compare. That’s why all hope depleted from Ludwig’s already hopeless thoughts. That flawless combination of what could only be described as  _Alfred_  and the  _love of his life_  was nowhere to be seen in a crowd of dim colors and human skin. The crowd wasn’t large anyway; it was two in the morning in the middle of winter, and the flight wasn’t packed to begin with.

Ludwig shouldn’t have let that tiny speck of optimism infect his usually rational mind. Alfred wouldn’t be here. Why would he be? And who knows if he’s still at the place they had together. The thought of taking a taxi and opening the door to a bare and empty apartment that once radiated so much domestic warmth from Alfred’s silly decor nearly shot a hole in Ludwig’s chest. Ludwig was sure he was going to cry in that taxi ride--he could barely hold in his tears now. He really fucked up big time. He should have tried to reconcile after their fight. He should have held Alfred closer and whispered how important he was, how this trip was the last thing he wanted to do before settling down with him, how he would think about him every day, how--

“Ludwig?”

All his burdening thoughts scattered simultaneously on a whim at that meek whisper of his name. The familiarity of it increased the speed at which his heart pounded at his already aching chest. The pronunciation of his name was a little off, implying that the lips it came out of belonged to someone who wasn’t native to Germany, but still attempted to pronounce it like a German would anyway. American...American!

Ludwig’s eyes widened before he turned towards that beautiful voice that could only say one word and send his entire soul on fire. Immediately, his gaze latched onto a small figure to the side, separate from the small crowd in the waiting area. Even from where he stood, Ludwig noticed the consequences of being away for more than a year. The man no longer carried the fat Ludwig always adored and cherished; the familiar blue and gray winter coat he wore was four sizes too big. Under those gorgeous eyes were deep, dark circles--something Ludwig had never seen him sport before. Atop that brown head was a knitted pom pom hat. The one Ludwig made him two years prior. A few loose strands stuck out at the sides.

He still glowed, even in this rundown airport. He still held that same energy that pulled Ludwig towards him since the beginning, and was pulling him now. The wheels of his suitcase hummed softly as he neared the smaller man, not taking his eyes off of him for a second. The more he neared Alfred, the more beautiful he became, and the more Ludwig’s heart throbbed. But he didn’t dare stop less than four feet away, for fear that Alfred didn’t want him too close.

Alfred ran his gaze over Ludwig’s body, probably assessing how he too had lost weight. Ludwig only ate as much as the soldiers he shadowed, after all. How he daydreamed of Alfred’s cooking….

“Lutz….” That same voice whispered, and the nickname sent shockwaves all over Ludwig’s body, his fingertips tingling with the desire to caress those now slightly hollowed cheeks.

He couldn't speak. He was afraid to. The tension in the air felt like it could snap at any moment, and he didn’t want to speed up the inevitable by saying the wrong thing. Gazing upon Alfred was enough for now, because he was real. He was really there, in front of him. He had missed him so much…. Every section of his brain stopped working and instead opted to just chant one name over and over:  _Alfred, Alfred, Alfred._

“You--” Alfred began, wide eyes staring up at Ludwig. They held so much emotion, too many for Ludwig to decipher. He nearly melted under them, those dopey hues even more gorgeous than in his dreams. But suddenly they squinted together in an angry glare, eyebrows scrunching forward with a stubborn attitude only Alfred could conjure up. “You  _asshole_!”

Ludwig balked at the outburst, his anxiety rounding the corner yet again to punch him in the gut and knock him over. “Wha--”

“Why did you stop sending me letters? I didn’t receive anything from you for months!”

The enraged man clenched his fists at his sides, his face growing red with tears threatening to fall under the brim of his eyes. The nearly empty and quiet airport now felt like it was too crowded, because everyone within the vicinity of Alfred’s shouting turned their heads to stare at the two men.

Embarrassment didn’t mix well with the emotions flowing through Ludwig’s veins, and he flushed and stuttered at an attempt to respond.

“I...I thought--I mean--”

“Do you have any idea how worried I was?!” Alfred was getting louder and throwing fingers, and Ludwig put his hands up to try and shush him as gently as he could. But that only added more flames to the fire.

“No!” The voice crack was enough to send Alfred’s final strand of composure crashing to the ground. “I thought you were dead! For months! And then you have the audacity to send me a fucking text to come pick you up?”

Angry tears trickled down Alfred’s pink cheeks in waves, his bloodshot eyes even more red, as if he had been crying before and just never stopped. He furiously rubbed at them while Ludwig choked on his own desperate response.

“Alfred, please, I--you weren’t replying! You never replied to any of the letters I sent!” Watching Alfred sob only a few feet away raised Ludwig’s stress levels to extreme heights, because he wanted to hug him so  _badly_. “I thought you were still angry. I thought you were ignoring my messages and that is why I stopped--”

The rest of his sentence got stuck in his throat as he was nearly knocked over from a sudden weight at his chest. He stumbled backwards, the handle of his suitcase falling to the cheaply tiled floor with a loud clack as he used both hands to wrap around the body that slammed against him. Alfred’s body.

“Because my replies were returned, you stupid idiot!” Alfred’s cries were muffled, his face smashed against Ludwig’s chest, glasses pressing almost painfully against his skin. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

Tears welled up in Ludwig’s own eyes, and he hid his face in Alfred’s hat. It smelled of old yarn and laundry detergent, mixed with Alfred’s own sent: cheap, fruity shampoo--because he hated the flowery ones Ludwig always bought--and mint. He missed that smell. He missed it so much. His face scrunched up with emotion, and he squeezed Alfred tighter against him.

“I missed you,” he finally said, “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Alfred hiccuped into Ludwig’s chest, clawing at his back, “I missed you so damn much.”

They stayed like that for a few moments, in the middle of the waiting area, molding together as one after more than a year of being apart. Ludwig pulled away just the slightest to press his lips against Alfred’s forehead and lingered there for a while, until Alfred peeled his face from his chest to look up.

What a mess. His face was beat red, and wet all over from snot and tears. His glasses were fogged up, and he had red markings from the lenses digging into his face.

He was beautiful. And Ludwig couldn’t help but to lean down for a kiss, in which Alfred gladly reached into. It was the first kiss Ludwig had in so, so long, and he wanted to drown in it. Alfred’s lips were smooth and wet compared to his own, which he knew were chapped, and he had a hard time not getting carried away. But alas, the reminder that they were in an airport surrounded by people, who, fortunately, began to disperse, peeled them away from each other, but not before they bumped foreheads and rubbed their noses together.  

“Don’t do that to me again,” Alfred murmured, grabbing a fistful of Ludwig’s coat.

Ludwig softly laid his hands over Alfred’s tense, smaller ones--cradling them. “I won’t.”

“You scared me.”

“I know.”

“I’m still angry.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


End file.
